Protectors
by KamikazePyro
Summary: Protectors, warriors that control the elements, fight to protect the planet from demons. Sort of an AU thing inspired by Claymore and Dragonball.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _This is mostly a combination of things I took from Claymore and Dragon Ball Z, such as Ki sensing, power levels, suppression, Claymores (although they're not called Claymores in this), fighting with swords/weapons in general, etc. Please leave a review to let me know your thoughts! Enjoy._

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><p><strong>Protectors<strong>

"Surely you jest!"

"I can't let this continue any longer, comrade. You've seen the carnage these beings produce…the path of death they leave behind. No more!"

"Please, reconsider! We don't know what will happen if we use them. For all we know, they could cause even more damage! Are you willing to risk that, Katon?"

Katon, golden-eyed and weary, crept his bruised hand closer and closer to the stone wall standing in front of him and his compatriot. His skin was wrinkled from years of hard labor in the fields, and his graying hair had all but fallen out.

"Umbren, at this point, we've got to try everything we can to save what's left of our people."

Umbren swallowed hard, rubbing the sweat from his furry brow. His eyes were golden like Katon's, but showed signs of fading from old age. He looked his friend in the eyes, silently giving him the go-ahead signal, then turning the other way. He couldn't bear to watch the tomb's lock be broken after hundreds of years of servitude under the king.

He quietly acknowledged the fact that Katon was right. "Just hurry up, before we're discov—"

Katon's attention swiftly shifted from the wall to the area behind him, red liquid splattering across his face. He watched Umbren's body split into two halves, and then fall lifelessly onto the dirt floor below, blood and entrails spilling out excessively.

"Umbren!"

Holding the sword that had sliced through Umbren was a gray demonic being, standing eight feet tall with sharp barbs sprouting from every limb. Its red-yellow eyes blinked, then locked themselves upon a stunned Katon. "Old fool. I told you I would find you anywhere."

"You heathen, I won't let you continue your merciless rampage!" shouted Katon, unsheathing his sword and stabbing it into the wall behind him. He fell to one knee, whispering a chant under his breath.

"What are you muttering?" inquired the demon, growing closer to the old man. "A final prayer perhaps? Have you finally given up? Is that why you disarmed yourself?"

The demon looked down on the kneeling human, placing its sword just above the man's balding head, measuring the path of impact. It lifted the sword up, salivating over the thought of the kill, when the stone wall began to shake. It paused, wondering what was happening as eight symbols embossed themselves into the stone in a diamond formation, then started glowing, each with a distinct color.

"What is this…?" the demon asked, the light forming a barrier around the man. The barrier forcefully pushed it back a few feet.

The man's chant became louder for the demon to hear. "…And unto this plane He shall bring forth the power to eliminate the darkness before Him…The elements combine forces and take the shape of His sword…For with which He may cast down the darkness!"

With that, the light that had once been a barrier for the man had now become a glimmering sword with the eight symbols lining its blade.

"Is this another one of your pathetic legends, human?" The demon scoffed, slapping itself on the chest several times in a gesture of toughness. "I am Balthazor, Slayer of Entire Species! No sword has ever broken my hide! What chance do you have with that pitiful thing?" He spread his arms. "I'll even let you have a free shot at me since this is just too pathetic, even for a filthy human."

Katon gripped the hilt firmly, sizing up his opponent. "This is for my people…and their future. May they never have to live in fear from you again!"

He lunged forward, quicker than he had moved in many decades, reaching the demon before it even had a chance to see him. The demon's barbed skin gave way to the sword, breaking apart at a shocking speed. Before long, the demon's innards were falling onto the ground before it.

Baffled, it put its clawed hands to its severed pelvis, trying to hold in the remaining entrails and blood. "H-how?" It barely had time to mutter a single word before the sword broke through its skull, shattering it into bloody clumps. Its body fell over, convulsing violently.

Katon, too, fell to the ground, drained of power entirely. That last, final attack took everything he had; more than he could safely give, in fact. He knew what laid ahead for him. He held the sword up in front of him, gazing into his own reflection as the weapon slowly dissolved, and the eight symbols halted their glowing on the stone wall.

"F-for my…children. May you live…in peace…n-now."


	2. Chapter 2

Flames whipped up the drapes, engulfing the wood around the window, the glass cracking and busting open, shards cutting through the air as wildly as the tentacles of the fire rampaged the room. With the window cut off, the door was the only hope for escape.

Her brother reached the door, his hands grasping the piping hot knob. He belted out a scream, muffling himself with his shirt as he twisted the knob. He yanked the door open, a breath of fresh air hitting his charred face. He turned and threw out his hand to the girl cowering in the corner, her face in her knees.

"Come on!" he bellowed, stretching his arm out as far as it would go. "Sister!"

The girl looked up at her brother through her knees, tears creeping out of the corners of her eyes and drying quickly from the heat of the flames. "S-Seto!"

"Marya, please! Grab my hand!" he pleaded, watching as the flames grew closer to her.

It was evident by her frightened eyes that she wasn't going to leave her corner, ignorant of the impending death if she didn't. She cried harder, burying her face in her knees again.

Seto let go of the door and ran toward her, hopping a wall of fire that had made its way between them. His left pant leg caught fire, forcing him to rip it off, exposing more of his flesh; as if having a tattered shirt wasn't already bad enough. He finally made it to her, grabbing her up and cradling her in his arms as he turned and headed back for the door.

The place was coming down faster and faster. The heat was unbearable, as just the vapors were enough to begin melting the furniture and the paint on the walls. Smoke had filled so much of the air around them that it was almost impossible to see two feet in front of them. Even the floorboards were becoming unstable, causing Seto another challenge.

"Just stay with me, Marya. I'll get us out!"

Glass rained down from the ceiling, showering the siblings, and letting Seto know the chandelier was about to come down on them. Through all of the noise from the fire, he could hear the ceiling giving way, and the metal holders clanging together as the chandelier waved above them. Finally, the ceiling let go, the massive metal assortment falling.

Light seeped through the smoke, giving away the position of the open door. They were close.

His foot crash through the floor as a board gave way, catching him at the worst possible time. Now he knew only one of them was making it out alive. He quickly kissed his younger sister on the forehead, then used all of his strength to heave her toward the door. She squealed and hit the floor with a thud, looking back to her brother as the chandelier crashed down upon him. The fire covered his painful scream, and the smoke obscured her vision, saving her from seeing him pinned under the massive weight of the metal object.

"B-big brother!"

Two hands reached out from the light, grabbing hold of her waist and pulling her away from the mess, kicking and screaming for her brother.

"Get the IV!"

"Where's the oxygen?"

"Cloth! We need a cloth right now!"

"She's going into shock – hurry up with the damn oxygen!"


	3. Chapter 3

"There's been another raid by the Baron."

"What did he take this time?"

"Sector 28."

This didn't sit well with Commander Isotope, a stocky man that looked to be about thirty, even though he was well into his sixties. His hair was a light shade of green that matched his beady eyes. The Napoleonesque man sat on his sturdy titanium throne with a cup of wine that was quickly tossed through the air at a blinding speed.

"How was Sector 28 overrun? It was guarded by a dozen Protectors, for Christ's sake." He pressed his fingers to his temples, aggravated. A migraine was setting in for the third time that day.

"Well…"

"Well? Don't give me that crap, Matane! What the hell happened?"

The burly tree of a man was actually frightened by his much smaller superior, a case not too frequent with Matane, who harped to most others of being one of the strongest in the corporation. He gulped down a wad of mucus that had built up before he'd even broken the news to his commanding officer. "It was an onslaught of Serpents and Drifters. Our forces were brought down within a day, sir."

Commander Isotope huffed. "Clearly I overestimated some of the lower ranked members, didn't I, Matane?" He paused. "Call in Numbers 50 through 55. They should be enough to gain Sector 28 back."

"And if they fail, sir?"

"Then they'd better hope they die on the battlefield."

"Right, sir. I'll get the message out."

Number 12, or Captain Matane, as he preferred to be called, turned on his heel and left his superior officer to brood, the stainless steel doors sliding shut behind him as he treaded down the corridor. As he passed through, everybody working stopped what they were doing and saluted him. All of the men and women in the building wore a blue uniform, but unlike his, none of theirs had a Schild on it – two shoulder plates connected by diamond-shaped chest and back plates. Schilds were only awarded to those of higher ranks that had proved themselves in battle.

He passed two guards at the entrance of what appeared to be a restricted area, nodding as they also saluted him. He held his hand out and pressed it against a blue pad that looked like it was stationary liquid. The pad scanned his hand and beeped, allowing him entrance into a long room with many computers and high-tech devices neatly arranged with employees diligently committed to them.

It took a minute, but he made it to the end of the room, which was covered in dozens of television monitors, each displaying different scenes. Some showed beautiful landscapes while others showed warriors in blue battle suits clashing with what appeared to be manipulated water.

"Gants, call up Numbers 50 through 55. Commander Isotope requests that they advance to Sector 28 and reclaim it from the Baron."

A thick-armed man nodded and made the order. Five screens were outlined in silver on the wall. Captain Matane observed them for a moment before turning to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

Purple blood spewed across the ground in dozens of streams as a sharp blade ripped through the gullet of a dark green lizard-like creature. The creature hissed and flopped on the ground before succumbing to death.

"And that, my young friend, is how you deal with Serpents," said Kirk Lazarus, or Number 77 as he was called by his superiors. "Just watch out for their fangs, and don't ever let them wrap themselves around you. They'll never let go."

Kirk lifted his katana and brought it down on the creature's neck, slicing the head clean off. He reached into the creature's severed neck, grabbed hold of its spine, and yanked with all of his might. The spine was pulled right from the body, amazing the young boy watching from behind a short stone wall.

"You should always cut their heads off, even if you think they're already dead," Kirk continued. "Just in case, you know? I've seen some good warriors go down because of that in my day. I won't allow myself to fall for something so easily avoidable. Now," he tossed the spine onto the ground next to his feet and brought a heavy foot down onto it, crushing it. "How about some dinner? I know how you Initiates haven't quite mastered the whole not eating for days at a time thing."

Number 77's green uniform glinted off the sun that was high in the sky. He took his hand and placed it onto the earth, closing his eyes and waiting. Soon, vines from the wooded area nearby sprung out, each carrying pieces of wood for their fire. He smiled and gathered the wood, setting up the fire as the boy hopped over to him excitedly.

"That was incredible," he said, taking a seat on a stump that had been provided by the vines. "I want to be just as strong as you one day, Mister Lazarus. No, even stronger!"

Number 77 couldn't help but grin at the kid's jubilance. It was nice being appreciated for a change. Being 77th out of 100 wasn't exactly something to celebrate, and the work he did on a daily basis wasn't thought too highly of by the general population of Earth, even if it protected them.

"I'm sure with a lot of hard work and determination, you could be the strongest warrior this world has ever seen, Hazen."

"You really mean that?" The kid's face lit up like a firecracker.

Number 77 nodded, sitting himself down and placing the dead Serpent over the now blazing fire. _But it'll take more than you can imagine to reach even the top twenty, kid._

Having eaten the majority of the Serpent, Hazen grew tired, sprawling out on a bed of leaves, staring up at the sky as it changed colors from a light blue to an orange-pink. Nighttime was fast approaching.

"Hey, Mister Lazarus?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"What happens when you die? Like, if you're killed on a mission or something."

The veteran warrior blanked out for a moment. He'd never thought too hard about that aspect of the job before. He knew what happened, of course, because every Initiate is briefed before becoming a Protector, but having to explain it to an Initiate that was a ways away from being promoted was somewhat of a challenge.

"Well, uh, your body is taken to the nearest base and burned."

"What about your weapon and your armor? Are they burned, too?"

"Sometimes. See, when you become a Protector, one of the first things you're required to do is sign a contract. On the contract it asks if you want your belongings burned with you, donated to another warrior, or put away in storage."

"What did you choose?"

"I chose for mine to be donated. There's no point in burning a good weapon and armor, or putting that stuff away when someone else could be using it and carrying on your legacy."

Hazen sighed and shifted his position. "Yeah, I agree." He yawned loudly. "Goodnight, Mister Lazarus. I can't wait to get up bright and early tomorrow and fight my first Serpent."

Once Hazen had fallen asleep, Number 77 grabbed his weapon and headed into the woods, meeting up with a man in a gray business suit.

"How is your training going, Number 77?" asked the man in a slightly condescending tone.

The Protector responded, "Accordingly. What's the emergency?"

"Emergency? Who said there's an emergency? Can't I just come to talk once in a while?"

"That's not what you were employed to do, so tell me what's up. Has the Baron attacked a nearby sector?"

"Unfortunately, no. Three days ago he took Sector 28 from us. Numbers 50 through 55 were sent to retrieve it."

"I'm assuming they got the job done."

"Naturally."

Growing impatient with beating around the bush, Number 77 crossed his chest and began tapping his foot on the soft dirt beneath him. "Then what's the problem? Get to the point, Canna."

"You're being reassigned to further protect that sector."

Number 77's arms fell to his side. "What? But I'm training an Initiate right now! Can't they send someone else?"

The man waved his arm. "Keep your voice down, Number 77." He adjusted the thick-rimmed glasses on his face and cleared his throat before speaking again. "Commander Isotope feels that more protection is warranted, so aside from the five Protectors already mentioned, you, along with Numbers 70, 74, 78, and 85 will be stationed there until further notice."

"What about my Initiate?" Kirk protested. "I can't leave him here by himself with the recent increase in Serpents in this sector. The boy can barely handle a sword!"

The man turned his back. "He will be picked up by another Protector shortly. If that's all, I suggest you gather your belongings and head to Sector 28. You're expected to be there by daybreak, Number 77."

Kirk couldn't defy an order from the top. He'd be viewed as a liability and hunted down by his fellow Protectors if he did. He begrudgingly returned to the campsite, throwing his armor on quietly so as to not awaken the boy. He wanted to say goodbye, but he knew it was for the best if he left without saying anything at all.

_I'll come back for you someday, kid. And who knows, maybe you'll be just as strong as me when that day comes. I hope you survive your training. Goodbye for now._


	5. Chapter 5

A rotten, jagged yellow fingernail pierced the temple of a young man. The fingernail dug deeper into the boy's skull, feeling the gray matter sloshing around. Once it was pulled out, blood spilled like a fountain. This only enticed the Drifter even more, provoking it to shove its grotesque finger back into the human's skull, then pull out, then go back in several times over. It moaned in ecstasy like it was having sex with the skull.

All the while, the human was still alive. He could feel everything the demon was doing to him, but he was completely paralyzed. He could only force a moan of agony every now and then as the demon had its way with his skull.

When the demon had finished, its four-foot-long tongue fell from its mouth and lapped up the blood that had spilled out onto the floor. It eyed the human before it, and simply smiled, its crooked teeth covered in blood and brain matter.

"I bet you wish I would just finish you," it spoke in a gruff, distorted voice. "But I have no intentions of ending your suffering, Protector. There'd be no fun in that. I want you to feel what it's like to have your brain fucked right out of your skull!"

The human moaned again in futility.

The demon put its hand to its pointed ear. "What's that? You like it rough? So do I! We have so much in common… We're both strong in our respective organizations – you're a high-ranked Protector, and I'm one of the most powerful Drifters to ever be born."

It grabbed the human by the back of his head and pushed him into its pelvis, preparing for its next torture event. The man couldn't even close his eyes as he was forced closer and closer, the stench of the demon overpowering and rancid, making his nose bleed and eyes water even more.

The Drifter belted out in pain suddenly, releasing the human. It looked down to see a curved blade split in two down the middle sticking from the bottom of its gut. The blade was silver with red and black tribal designs, and had an unusual design on the opposite end of the killing point.

Before the demon knew what happened, the blade shot up like an elevator on crack, ripping it in half. The two halves fell separately onto the ground, flopping about for a few moments before subsiding in a pool of purple blood. The demon's lower half was kicked to the side as the assailant revealed himself to the human, whose paralysis had worn off enough for his eyes to widen at the sight of him.

The man appeared to be in his mid-20s, with medium-length, upright black hair that slanted to the left slightly. His crimson eyes gleamed as he looked down at the human before him. His battle suit was similar to Captain Matane's, including the Schild, but instead of the majority of it being blue, it was scarlet, with thin strips of black outlining the contours of the armor.

He looked at the symbol on the man's chest that identified his rank, frowning in clear disappointment. "And here I thought you'd be something special with the way he was talking you up," the man began, turning around and taking a step toward the staircase he'd taken down. "But you're just a lowly Defender. Not even worth saving."

He slung his scythe onto his back, disappearing up the steps in a flash, leaving the Defender to fall over and continue bleeding to death.


	6. Chapter 6

"Watch it, Number 78!"

A wall of dirt flew up between a Serpent and the off-guard Number 78, who stumbled back and nearly tripped over the dead body of another Serpent. The wall barely lasted, though, as multiple Serpents rammed into it, breaking through and continuing their pursuit of Number 78. The boy managed to cut two of them in half, but there were too many, and he was overwhelmed.

Luckily, Number 70 was there to aid him, using his manipulation of energy to blast to rescue his teammate. Number 78 stood up, thanked him, and prepared for battle again as more Serpents rushed into view from the hills.

"There are so many of them!" Number 74 shouted, fending off three at once with a shield made from thorns. "77, watch your back!" He freed one hand and waved it to his side, summoning a huge root to block a potentially fatal Serpent assault on his fellow Protector.

Kirk Lazarus spun around, slashing the Serpent's head off, running to Number 74 and slashing through the demons on his end. "Thanks for that. I might've been finished if it weren't for you."

"Don't thank me yet," said Number 74, raising his thorn shield and forming a jousting stick alongside it. "We're severely outnumbered here. Number 80 is already in pretty bad shape."

Kirk turned his head to see another male, a lot older looking than him, keeled over in exhaustion, leaning on a fence post. His suit was missing several pieces of armor, blood dripping out of a gash in his left shoulder. "Shit, you're right… We've been going at it for an hour now. This is insane."

Number 78 hobbled over, the left leg of his suit ripped to shreds, blood streaming down from higher up his leg. He was breathing heavily as well. "Sorry, guys, but I was hit. I can barely move my leg. The venom's already coursing through my body. I won't be able to move at all soon."

Number 70 dashed over to them. He wasn't in as bad of shape as the rest of them, but one could tell he was beginning to feel the effects of such a long battle. He angrily looked up at a clock tower a few meters behind them and scowled. "Gah, what the hell do they think they're doing? They're supposed to be helping us, not watching us for their own entertainment, damn it!"

Sitting comfortably on the ledge of the altitudinous clock tower were Numbers 50 through 55, enjoying their entertainment for the day. The five of them looked eerily similar, almost as if they were twins, but they each had different colored suits on.

Number 50, the strongest of the five, wore a scarlet-colored suit. He had haphazardly spiked blond hair like the others, and sat in the middle of the ledge. "Look at those clowns. They have to use their powers just to fend off measly little Serpents. No wonder they're at the end of the pecking order."

Adorned in a blue suit, Number 51 chuckled. "We should probably help them soon. It wouldn't look very good on our reports if they all died."

"Who would care? Honestly now, Number 51, you're too nice sometimes," commented Number 52, the one in the yellow suit. "They'd just be replaced by more weaklings anyway." He noticed Number 70 looking up at them and laughed. "Oh, hey, they're looking up to us for help. I never would've expected that."

Number 53, wearing a black suit, stood up and cracked his knuckles. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting kind of anxious. I want blood. What about you, Number 54? I know how much you like killing Drifters, and they should be coming anytime now."

Beside him was Number 54, the only female in the group, dressed in magenta. Her fuchsia eyes scanned the battlefield before her full lips curled into a faint grin. "I'm ready whenever you are, 53."

Number 55 removed his broad sword from its sheath and examined it, admiring the reflection of his green suit. He licked his fingers and then ran them through his hair, messing it up further. "Let's do this already. I had a woman back in Sector 10 that I really enjoyed."

"You sure that woman wasn't actually a 10-year-old and that you're not just mixing things up?" teased Number 52, relishing in his brother's irritation.

"That's enough, you two," commanded Number 50, getting to his feet. "We might as well show these noobs how it's done."

He hopped down from the ledge, the other four following suit.

"It's about time you decided to help," Number 70 said with clear disdain in his voice.

Number 52 budged past him rudely. "We're not _helping_ you. We're doing our job so we can get out of here."

Number 70 opened his mouth to say something, but Kirk yelled out as more Serpents arrived, this time accompanied by a two dozen Drifters.

"Alright, this is the plan," started Number 50, getting into an offensive crouch with his sword. "We'll handle the Drifters while you finish off the Serpents. You stay out of our way and we'll stay out of your way. Got it?"

Reluctantly, the weaker Protectors nodded and readied themselves.


	7. Chapter 7

The door opened quietly as Captain Matane entered Commander Isotope's chamber, holding a small note in his hands as he treaded across the tile flooring.

"What is it, Number 12?"

"Sector 28 has been reclaimed, sir. But that's not all."

Commander Isotope raised his brow slightly. "Go on…"

"The reconnaissance team you sent up to the mountain region was killed. We received their bloody symbols in a box minutes ago. What do you want done about this, sir?"

The commander sighed angrily, rubbing his temples. "I'm growing tired of this taunting. If he wants a war, then he'll get one. Number 12, send Numbers 25, 30, and 35. This time instead of reconnaissance, their mission is to destroy the laboratories and kill everybody. Understand?"

_Sending Number 25 and 30? He must really be getting tired of this. They'll tear the Baron's mountain forces up in no time._ "Yes, sir. One more thing." He waited for the commander to signal for him to continue, nodding. "We've tracked Number 13 to a small village outside of Sector 13."

"The village where she currently resides?" He sat up in his chair, leaning forward and gripping the arm rests anxiously.

"Yes, sir. This could be troublesome if they were to encounter one another. Should I send for him to change course?"

"Immediately! We cannot have those two together! Keep them apart at all costs!"

Captain Matane nodded and saluted, turning and jogging out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Thick shoes lined with titanium made a clacking noise as they collided with the gravelly path toward a small village. The village was a few miles up the road still, but not too far that he couldn't make the trip within the hour. Birds soared above him, scouting for food for their families, while small denizens of the forest scoured the earth for nuts and berries. The peacefulness was soothing, but ultimately didn't last long.

The man stopped along the path, his right ear twitching slightly. He closed his eyes, a feint grin making its way across his face. "You can come out now, Canna."

Still wearing his business suit, the man known as Canna emerged from behind a robust tree trunk, his glasses glaring in the sunlight. "I'm surprised you noticed me, Number 13. I thought for sure I'd be able to suppress my power low enough to go undetectable even to someone such as yourself."

"You underestimate my basic sense of hearing…" Number 13 commented, turning his head to get a good look at Canna. "What are you here for? A new mission?"

"Yes," replied Canna, glancing down the pathway at the village. "You're to change course and head back to Sector 59. You missed a Xenocorpse."

"It must be a mistake. I checked that sector twice."

Canna waved his index finger. "Questioning your orders now, are we?"

Number 13's face grew straight. He was the WMPF's perfect soldier, at least when it came to obeying orders. He'd never been a trouble maker, even as a child in training. WMPF was all he knew. "Not at all. I'll head there right—"

A shrill cry caught Number 13's attention, turning his head to face the village again. Another cry hit his eardrums, this time from a male. More screams arose, forcing the warrior to act.

Canna couldn't open his mouth fast enough, and the man was already gone. "Don't forget your mission, Number 13…" he said, fading into darkness behind the tree trunk.

The warrior sprinted across the pathway with ease, reaching the town in less than five minutes. The village people were all in the center near a fountain. They looked like they were waiting for an attack.

One of them spotted him and called out, "Protector! Thank God you've arrived!"

The village people all seemed to relax a little as they saw him approach. The man that had called out broke from the group and ran to him, panting and sweating from sheer anxiety.

"Thank God you came," the poor man said, hunching over as he breathed in and out heavily. "It's terrible! It attacked so suddenly, we couldn't defend ourselves! It killed two young men and a young woman already!"

"Did you get a good look at it?" asked Number 13, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"N-not really… I know it's not much bigger than myself, though its s-strength was incredible…"

_A Xenocorpse…here? They usually prefer bigger towns with a lot more people in order to build their nests._ Moving past the man, he tilted his head into the air, sniffing for the creature. "Ah, found you." In a blur, he was gone.

Trotting through an alleyway, the warrior found himself following the bloody trail of the Xenocorpse. The trail, which consisted of severed body parts and crushed heads, led to a dark corner in between two houses. He stopped a couple yards from the corner, hearing the cries of what sounded like a young child.

He advanced, knowing something was up. Xenocorpses never left prey alive. Sure enough, as soon as he'd left the light, a clawed hand swiped at his gut. He managed to step back just in time, his suit sustaining a long tear across the gut, but no damage to the skin. As he stepped back, a current of air brushed up against his face, and he quickly side-stepped a potentially fatal swipe from the creature's five-foot-long spiny tail. He caught hold of the tail, tugging on it and tossing the creature into the light, revealing a bony black being that appeared to be missing a set of eyes.

"That was an obvious trap," said Number 13, examining the creature's body. "I knew you'd never leave someone alive like that without a good reason. I just wanted to test your speed, and you're just as quick as I expected. Now, how about your strength?"

The Xenocorpse hissed, showing off its transparent teeth, its gums quivering and drooling madly. It lunged at Number 13, opening its mouth wide. A second mouth shot out, snapping at the warrior, who simply moved his head out of range.

Sighing, Number 13 fell back, kangaroo-kicking the beast into the air. "Your strength is completely disproportionate to your speed. How sad. I was looking forward to a fight."

Landing several feet away, the Xenocorpse retaliated, spitting globs of acid at its opponent. Each glob was effortlessly dodged. It ran forward, this time attempting to slam its tail into the man, who grabbed hold of it and tore it straight off. Instead of worrying about its loss of a tail, the Xenocorpse continued its attack, slashing at him with its claws, failing each time.

"This is getting boring," declared Number 13, easily avoiding another slash. "Time for you to die."

With a thunderous uppercut, the Xenocorpse's head was sent hurtling into the air. Number 13 kicked the body over, studying his latest kill. _Why were you here? What did this small town have that interested a being like yourself?_

He turned swiftly, sending his hand out, slicing through the air like a hot knife, stopping abruptly right before a small child's face.

"What the…?" he raised an eyebrow, wondering what this child was doing tugging on his pant leg. "Go away."

A woman entered the area, running with surprising speed toward them, scooping the boy into her arms and holding him as if she hadn't seen him for years.

"I take it this one is yours then?" questioned the warrior.

"Yes. Thank you so much. I don't know what I would've done if my little Kai had been hurt!" she exclaimed, smothering him.

"No need to thank me," he said flatly, moving away from the two. "I didn't do it to save you or your people. I did it for the thrill of the fight."

The woman grimaced at the man's lack of manners, but this quickly morphed into a look of concern as she noticed the rip in his suit. "Hey, you're hurt."

The man looked down at his stomach, remembering that he'd actually been struck by the creature he'd laid waste to. "Oh, this. It's nothing." With that, he continued on his way.

Unfortunately, the woman wasn't so easily dissuaded. She trotted over to him with the boy still in her arms, stopping in front of him.

"Get out of my way," he told her.

"No."

"Get out of my way before I make you move."

"Do it."

Without hesitation, he shoved her aside crudely, not bothering to watch as she and her child fell to the ground. Seconds later, she was back on her feet and standing in front of him again.

"You're really getting on my nerves, woman."

"Good!" She held her child with one hand, placing the other on her hip.

"I said get out of my way!" Number 13 shouted, exerting more effort than last time to push her to the ground again. "Don't get up this time."

Surprisingly, she got back up, albeit not as quickly, and hopped in front of him once more. "I'm not giving up until you let me help you with that."

Number 13 was taken aback by her stubbornness and courage to stand up to someone like him, even after he'd thrown her to the ground twice. He stared fixedly at her, finding two deep lagoons of blue-green returning the gesture. _This woman is insufferable, but maybe I can find a use for her, after all._ "Alright, have it your way."


	9. Chapter 9

Number 77 limped over to a table, taking a seat and exhaling deeply. He'd still not healed completely from the battle in Sector 28, having taken a near-fatal bite from a Serpent to his right leg. He looked across the table to recently-made friends, Number 70, 74, and 78. Since the battle at Sector 28, they hadn't been assigned any missions, leaving them some time to actually get to know one another.

A waitress hummed over to their table, delivering two pitchers of cold beer and three huge steaks. Number 70 handed her a bag of what sounded like coins, and she happily left them to their items.

"To Number 80," Kirk said, raising his glass.

"To Number 80!" the others said in unison, clanking their glasses together before slugging them down.

Pouring another glass of beer, Number 74 commented, "You know, it's weird – us being here, actually being able to enjoy each other's company. Being on missions on a daily basis doesn't allow much time to socialize with other Protectors."

"You got that right," replied Number 78, taking a small sip from his cup. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live a normal life again. I do miss my children."

Number 70 chuckled. "I thought they taught you guys to forget about all of that shit."

"They did, but sometimes the memories flash back during battle for some reason, like my body is trying to tell me something." He paused, looking at the puzzled reactions of the others. "Meh, I don't know what I'm talking about. Hey, Number 77, I hear you were training an Initiate before you got drafted to fight with us. What was that all about? How'd it go?"

Kirk looked down at his mug, staring as the liquid rippled from the tiniest disturbances. "Nothing much to say about it. I barely got to train the kid to handle a sword."

"Don't worry about it, man. Hey, he's probably slaying some Serpent ass wherever he is!"

Kirk put on a fake smile, nodding. "Yeah, you're probably right. He did have a lot of potential, I guess."

"Speaking of potential," Number 74 began, sliding his glass between his palms. "How much douchebag potential do you guys think that squad of assholes we had to fight with has?"

Number 78 chortled heartily. "They probably top the scale in that field! I have to admit, though, they were pretty damn powerful. They only used their powers to show off in the fight. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of their attacks, that's for sure."

Shrugging, Number 74 added, "Ah, they're nothing compared to Number 45. That guy has a gnarly punch, let me tell you. I teamed up with him once and saw him waste fifty Serpents in one fully powered water punch. He didn't even leave me anything to kill, that bloke."

"Have you guys ever seen our Number 1?" Kirk crossed his chest, leaning back in his chair, assessing the others as they reacted, showing both surprise and timidity. "I'm just wondering. I've only heard stories."

"There's a rumor that we don't even really have a Number 1 anymore…" said Number 70, pouring a new glass, slugging it down, then pouring a new one. "That every number from 1 to 5 is dead, and the organization just never replaced them for whatever reason."

Number 78 rubbed his brow. "I heard he was so powerful, his body couldn't handle the power and he self-destructed."

Number 74 laughed out loud, almost spilling his drink. "That's rubbish! The story I heard had him so powerful, he was frozen and locked away somewhere in a hidden base, only to be released in a time of desperation."

"Hn, the story I heard is that he's a direct descendant of Katon, and that he harnesses the power of light."

"Typical," Number 74 scoffed. "It's always light that has to save the day. Light is the symbol of perfection in society. It's not surprising the Number 1 of our organization would be a light attribute. Just once I'd like to see a dark attribute save the day. How ironic would that be?"

Number 70, growing tired of the subject, decided to change it. "Did you hear about Number 92's death last week? Poor kid was just a Defender."

"What happened?" Kirk asked, leaning in. "Shouldn't he have been with other Defenders? It's not like the organization to send lone Defenders into battle."

Number 70 sighed. "He was with a team of five. The Drifter separated them, and dragged him into a basement somewhere. The others weren't experienced enough to sense him well enough to find him."

"So the Drifter killed him? Why not the others?"

"Yeah, what kind of Drifter kills one and leaves the others?" questioned Number 74.

"No, the Drifter didn't kill him…not exactly, anyway. It wounded him pretty badly, but nothing he couldn't have recovered from if he'd gotten medical attention right away."

"What happened, 70? You're not making any sense, man."

Number 70 ran a finger along the rim of his mug, contemplating his next words. He spoke, his voice sounding deeper, angrier. "It was that damn Number 13."

The mention of that man's name seemed to send a mixed feeling of dread and bitterness through the warriors simultaneously. Number 74 got the brunt of the bitterness, squeezing his glass so hard it shattered in his hand, blood sprinkling out slowly onto the table. He grabbed a napkin from the table beside him and pressed it into his hand, waiting for the others to speak.

His lips twitching from a sudden rush of animosity, Number 78 spoke harshly, "Number 13… Just the mention of his rank makes me embarrassed to be part of this organization. How can a guy like that be so close to the top?"

"I don't know," Kirk said, calming himself down a bit. He'd heard stories of Number 13's ruthlessness, but never actually seen him himself to confirm the validity of the stories. He glanced at the others, then to Number 70. "Finish it. What happened?"

As requested, the man continued. "Number 13 found the Drifter and Number 92. He killed the Drifter, but left 92 to die…that bastard. 92 could've been healed, damn it!"

"He doesn't care about anybody he doesn't deem worthy," Number 78 said. The bleeding from his hand had stopped. "In other words, anybody that isn't as strong as him is weak in his eyes."

"I'd love to take a shot at that guy, even though I know he's in a completely different dimension compared to me," Number 70 said. "Just knowing I gave it a shot would be good enough for me, though."

"Isn't it against the organization's code to kill one of our own?" asked Kirk.

"Technically, he didn't kill Number 92. He just didn't help him. The organization can't do anything about it."

"Or won't," chimed in Number 78. "With Number 11 holding down Sector 5, and Number 12 riding Commander Isotope's dick, Number 13 is the best the organization has right now outside of the top ten, who nobody seems to really know about."

"I'm beginning to think the organization is corrupt," said Number 70, garnering a loud gasp from his teammates. "Now, it might just be a stupid hunch, but hear me out before you chop my head off or something. We have powerful fighters…amazingly powerful…no, impossibly powerful…! Yet we've been fighting the Baron for years. Why? Why doesn't the organization just send everything it has and end it already? Hell, just the top guy alone would probably be enough to solo everything the Baron has."

"What's your point?" inquired Number 74. "I'm a little lost here. Are you saying the organization is purposely holding back in order to prolong the war?" Number 70 nodded slowly. "But why would they do that?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be discussing it with you fellas, no offense. I was also thinking…what if the Baron isn't even a man? Nobody has ever seen even a glimpse of him. A little strange, don't you think?"

Kirk closed his eyes, his nose twitching. He lifted his chin, sniffing in the direction behind him. "We've got trouble."


	10. Chapter 10

Number 13 followed the woman and her child back to the center of the village, encountering the mob of people from when he'd arrived. The man from before approached them, his posture more relaxed and refined.

"Thank you for helping us," he told the warrior. "How would you like your payment?"

"A man in a gray business suit will come for my payment in two days," replied Number 13, surveying the crowd. Something was off. Someone smelled…wrong. He moved past the man and made his way to the crowd, looking them over carefully.

"W-what are you doing?" asked the man.

Number 13 stepped in front of an innocent looking man, who moved back in fear until he hit a fountain behind him. "You should have left while I was preoccupied with the Xenocorpse."

The woman picked her child up and held him tightly, sensing a disturbance. She knew something was about to happen.

The innocent looking man's face morphed into a devilish grin, surprising the townsfolk. He lunged at the fighter, but was promptly kicked to the ground, causing some gasps from the village people.

"What gave me away?" he wondered, lying on the ground.

"You wreak of the child's scent, as well as the Xenocorpse's," the warrior said, planting his foot on the man's chest, preventing him from escaping. "You were working with the Xenocorpse. It was you that set the trap, wasn't it?"

Behind him, the woman set her child down and made a beeline for the downed assailant. She crossed her arms over her full chest, glaring down at the man with a look only a scorned woman could give.

The pinned man cackled. "You're all fools. This place will be destroyed by the Baron. I was merely securing my place in his empire. The child was a necessary sacrifice."

The woman planted a foot onto the man's groin, forcing a painful bellow from him, and a look of silent approval from the fighter beside her. "A necessary sacrifice? That's my son, damn it!"

Coughing up a few drops of blood, the man removed a small black sphere from his pants pocket. He burst out with wild laughter.

Number 13 recognized the device immediately, pushing the woman out of the way and turning to the village people. He threw out his hands and a wall of fire blocked off the crazed man. Seconds later, a considerable explosion went off behind it, smoke climbing into the sky above. He lowered his arms, the wall of fire dying away, revealing a black scorch mark on the ground where the man had once been.

"What the heck just happened?" a young boy asked, coming out from behind a wheelbarrow. "That was wicked!"

Number 13 glanced at the woman, who was brushing herself off. She finished just in time to catch his stare, locking eyes for a moment before he started off.

She jumped to her feet and caught up with him, grasping his arm. "Oh no, you don't! I still have to stitch that up." Her child ran over to them, holding onto her hand as she led them both away from the crowd.

"Hey, Protector!" shouted a deep voice.

Turning slightly, Number 13's eyes locked onto a man sitting on top of a roof of a building a few yards from them. He had two short swords sheathed on his back and a dagger in his hand.

He continued, "If you lay a hand on her, you'll be dealing with me. I'm not as easily fooled as the rest of these gullible idiots."

"Ignore him," the woman spoke, pulling him ahead.

Number 13 turned away from the man and continued following the woman as she led them away. Even though he didn't say it aloud, he didn't want to waste time on someone as seemingly weak as him.

Soon they reached her home, an average-sized building with two floors, two bedrooms, and one bathroom. It was somewhat messy inside, although that could most likely be blamed on the kid.

Passing through the living room, the warrior noticed that there was no television or computer, which most people in each sector seemed to own at least one of.

Seeing the look of subtle shock on his face, the woman commented, "I have no need for that stuff, and little Kai prefers to play-fight with the others kids and run around outside than sit in front of a computer screen all day."

"I see," Number 13 said quietly. _He reminds me of myself before the organization took me in._

They entered the kitchen, where the woman began collecting tools for her patchwork. She sifted through cabinets with precision, picking out each tool quickly.

She reached one cabinet and huffed, facing around. "Kai, honey? Could you go get the key from mommy's room for the cabinet?" She waited for the little boy to leave before moving over to the table, setting the items down and beaming at the warrior standing in the archway. "Take your armor off."

The man looked at her curiously.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like that. It'll just be easier without it on."

"I wasn't thinking that way," he said, beginning to unhook his armor. "I have no need for sexual intercourse in my line of work."

"You never get aroused or anything?"

"No." He placed his armor on the floor next to him and took a seat in the chair she'd pulled out for him.

_Sure, you don't._ With his armor off, she moved closer to him, kneeling down and putting a hand to his gut, getting a feel for the suit's durability. "Your suit is pretty tough. That thing must've been really strong to tear through this material."

"It was hardly worth the effort." He peered down at her, finding her between his legs, her head dangerously close to his crotch. It was unusual having such an attractive woman this close to him, or anybody for that matter. With her shirt being somewhat loose, he couldn't help but see down it, finding her two large breasts hanging firmly.

"For someone who has no need for sex, you sure are enjoying the view," she noted, not removing her eyes from his suit. She jabbed a small needle through the torn piece and attached a thin string to the end of it.

Number 13 scoffed, moving his eyes elsewhere. "Don't flatter yourself. I was merely studying you for weaknesses." He tried his best to lie.

"Whatever," she responded as Kai returned with the key, handing it to her.

As she went to open the locked cabinet, the child stood and stared at the man, who didn't return the look. "What's your name?" he asked innocently.

"Number 13."

"What kind of name is that? Are you, like, the thirteenth kid in your family or something?"

"I don't have a family."

"Why not?"

"They're dead."

"What happened to them?"

The woman knelt back down in front of the man, dabbing a swab of cotton with a small bottle of alcohol. "Kai, go play in your room for a bit while I fix this man's suit, okay?"

The kid sighed, reluctantly obeying his mother's suggestion, knowing it was really an order in disguise and that disobeying her would lead to dire consequences. He sulked out of the room.

The woman waited for his footsteps to stop before continuing her work. She began stitching it, humming a tune as she went along.

Number 13's ears twitched. He vaguely recognized that tune from somewhere, but where? He racked his brain but nothing turned up. Were his ears playing tricks on him?

"My name's Teresa, by the way," she said, interrupting his brain racking. "Sorry about Kai. He's a lot nosier than your typical five-year-old."

He didn't respond, leaving her to continue the conversation, which she didn't particularly mind. She didn't expect him to be too talkative, as most Protectors weren't even supposed to mingle with the general population.

She wondered, "So you're a fire attribute, then?"

"Clearly."

"That's cool. Sometimes I wish I could control electricity. That'd be the best."

He grabbed her hand, stopping her. She let out a sharp breath and looked up at him. "Why are you not afraid of me?" he asked her, genuinely curious as to why she was so comfortable with being this near to him.

She paused, thinking deeply for an answer. "I can't explain it, but I feel…safe around you; comfortable…like I've been around Protectors all my life, even though I can't remember ever meeting one except for you." She took a breath. "People fear you guys for the stupidest reasons."

"They fear us because we are monsters."

"I don't think so. I think that aside from your powers, you're a human like the rest of us."

"I'm not a pathetic human."

"Whatever."

He released her hand, and she resumed the stitching, nearly finished.

_Something about this woman throws me off. I feel like I've met her before, but I don't remember seeing her before now. What is it about her that's making me feel this way?_ He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to remember her. Unfortunately, he was interrupted. He picked up a weak power heading his way, accompanied by two even weaker persons. _They're trying to suppress their battle power, but I can still sense them. What are they coming here for?_

"There – all done!" she said happily, standing and admiring her work. "Good as new!"

Without thanking her, he stood and put his armor back on, tightening it before sliding his scythe back into its sheath and heading off, his titanium shoes clacking against the tile flooring.

Teresa opened her mouth, prepared to ask him to stay for dinner, but a knock at the door stopped her from accomplishing this task. She began rushing for the door, but Number 13 held out his arm and told her to stay back.

"It's for me," he said bluntly. "Stay in here with your child unless you'd like to be killed."

She didn't like being told what to do, but she couldn't help but obey his command. Somehow she knew he was right.

He opened the door, his face remaining indifferent at the sight of one Protector and two Defenders. "What are you doing here, Number 17?"

The man looked like he was a mere teenager, but he was really pushing thirty. He had raven black hair parted down the middle that just barely touched his collar bones. He was an energy type judging by his yellow battle suit.

"Commander Isotope has ordered you back to base," he spoke in a monotone voice. "These two Defenders will be enough to protect this tiny village when you leave."

13 looked at the two scrawny boys and could tell immediately that they were in over their heads. He chuckled. "Right."


End file.
